Through the Window
by xasiannoodlesx
Summary: Antonio has finally moved to America to live with his father Romanus. He knows he will be facing a new town, new school, and new people. His French neighbor and classmate is more than willing to help him get acclimated...


Months of packing, living on his own in a crappy apartment and not-quite-tearful goodbyes had finally come to an end. At long last, Antonio had finally managed to move to America. Or at least, he nearly had. First, he had to actually enter the country. His plane had been circling the airport for the last twenty minutes, waiting for its turn to land. Antonio had been stuck in a teeny-tiny seat for over ten hours, and his butt was numb. He was tired of breathing the cold, stale-smelling air. He cursed himself for not bringing his own snacks, and the food served had been nothing short of disgusting. And though he normally adored children, he was ready to kill the kid who had been kicking his seat for the past six or seven hours straight. At this point in this exhaustion, there was nothing more that Antonio wanted to do was take a nap in a horizontal position. Yet, he was also excited to get off the plane and begin his new life. He was glad that his father had gotten a job in the United States, and was thrilled to live with him again. Though it meant a new school system, new friends, and having to speak English, Antonio was confident that he would have a good last two years of secondary school.

Finally, the plane descended. With a final pop of his ears and an unsettling jolt of landing, Antonio had made it to America. After poking the woman next to him who had managed to sleep through landing, Antonio pulled his luggage out of the overhead compartment. Time seemed to slow down as Antonio queued up to exit the plane. The painfully long wait to move was over- he was now actually in the country he had dreamed of for nearly a year. Air conditioning blew over him as he stepped onto the ramp, and he shivered slightly.

Immigration and the baggage claim went by in a blur of color, noise, and general confusion. Antonio's English was far from perfect, and reading signs had never been a strong point of his. Eventually, he found his way to the pick-up spot to find his father holding a poster and waving.

"Antonio! Mi hijo! Bienvenido a América!" yelled Romanus.

Thankfully, Antonio's father took one of his heavy bags and the two began walking towards the car park. Antonio suddenly had a fair amount of energy, and began questioning his father all about America. Apparently, the high school was good and there were lots of international students. The grocery store had decent Spanish rice. The ladies were not as hot as the ones back in Spain, but acceptable.

Antonio's father stopped before a gleaming red car, obviously new and quite flashy. Antonio's eyes widened as he exclaimed, "Padre, este es nuestre coche? Es magnifico!"

Romanus laughed and helped him load his heavy luggage into the spacious boot. While his father slammed down the boot door, Antonio walked around the car and climbed into the passenger's seat. As he buckled his seatbelt with a loud click, Antonius got into the passenger seat and carefully closed the door. Upon starting the car up, Antonius poked the "radio" button and turned the volume dial until the windows vibrated.

"HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY…"

"Padre! Qué TERRIBLE!" shouted Antonio.

Antonio proceeded to poke at the radio button until something significantly less annoying came on, which turned out to be some sort of whiny love song. Looking out the passenger window, Antonio was amazed by his new surroundings. The buildings seemed on the old side but well maintained. There were a decent number of trees around, and the some of the sidewalks were cobblestone. People were walking very quickly as if they were running late, all plugged into their iPods and avoiding each other's gazes. The city was shades of brown and grey with the occasional brightly-coloured shop. Something called Dunkin' Donuts, which Antonio assumed was a coffee shop, seemed to be on every other street corner. Traffic was stop-and-go on the narrow and loopy roads. Romanus didn't seem to mind and instead was pointing at things out the windows. Antonio tried to keep up the best he could, but eventually his eyelids grew heavy and he dozed off.

"Antonio! Wake up we're home!" called his father.

Antonio opened his eyes to the start of a sunset. Nearly pressing his nose against the tinted car windows, he saw a fairly nice white-and-brown house with a decent sized yard. A sturdy-looking brown fence surrounded the property, giving the home a comforting yet somewhat masculine feel. Continuing to look around, he realised the yard was big enough to play a casual game of futbol in.

Slowly and carefully, Antonio got out of the car and went around the back to pull his luggage out of the boot. His bags fell out with a large thump, nearly landing on Antonio's foot. His father was kind enough to take his carry-on bag and enthusiastically pointed out things around the yard while Antonio nodded and hid his yawns. The warm summer air was moist but not overly humid, and some sort of strange insect was singing. The pair dragged Antonio's heavy bags up the short stone walkway, their arms screaming in protest. Romanus fumbled with his keys before unlocking the heavy wooden door and pushing it open. Upon entering the house, Romanus gave his son a quick tour. The kitchen, living and dining room were connected, and the bathroom was a converted pantry. Romanus slept downstairs on the other side of the staircase while Antonio was to sleep upstairs. While he was glad to essentially have the top floor of the house to himself, Antonio couldn't help but curse his father a bit as he lugged his bags upstairs.

Antonio stumbled into his new room and flailed his arms about, looking for the light switch. There were three tiny plastic nubs instead of his old standard of one, which was very strange. Upon flipping all three on, the room filled with warm yellow light and the ceiling fan began to spin. His new bed was in the dead centre of the room, the head directly under a crescent-shaped window. A matching bedside table with a lone box of tissues was beside it, contrasting horribly with the plain white walls. It was a bit smaller than his room in Spain but had gleaming hardwood floors to make up for it.

Definitely feeling the jetlag, Antonio gave his big suitcase one last tug before it cleared the doorway. The suitcase fell on its side with a crash, probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Antonio paid it no mind and proceeded to unzip it. Though the flight had jumbled everything up, he managed to find his favourite boxers with relative ease. Yawning, he pulled off his shirt before grabbing his boxers and opening the door to what he assumed was the bathroom. After struggling to find the light switch, Antonio proceeded to finish changing and washed his face.

Upon emerging from the bathroom with his face damp, Antonio glanced around his room. It lacked a desk since the empty room next door would serve as his and his father's study space. Overall the room seemed rather empty and lacking of personality. His father had clearly tried to be thoughtful and let Antonio do the decorating, but at the present the room felt lonely. Sighing, Antonio glanced out of his little window. There weren't any curtains hanging yet, which occurred to Antonio as something that needed to be fixed relatively soon. Across from his bedroom appeared to be someone else's bedroom, obscured by lovely cream-colored curtains. Shrugging, Antonio crossed the room and collapsed on the already-made bed. The blanket his mother had sewn for him years ago was at the end of it, colorful and comforting to the sleepy teenager. As usual, Antonio said a quick prayer before pulling the blanket around him and drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

(^.^)

On the other side of the cream-colored curtains, a French boy couldn't believe his luck. Francis pulled his long blonde hair back into a little ponytail before continuing the drawing in his lap. He had only peered out of his window to look at the flowers in his window box, but instead saw a torso worth sculpting. The guy must have been around his age, and unmistakably Spanish. Said hot Spanish guy was currently passed out face down on his bed, half covered in a blanket with the lights still on. His suitcase was lying around on the floor, evidently forgotten. Francis had heard that Spanish boys had great butts. He wasn't going to look though. He wasn't- oh, crap. Not just great butt. Amazing butt.

The unfamiliar boy must be the son of his relatively new neighbor. When Francis had gone over a few days after the man moved in bearing a housewarming plant, he got his ear talked off. The man sure was proud of his son. Francis smirked, wondering if the new boy would live up to his father's description. If he did, the new boy was a football star and fairly good at the guitar. The best part about living in this town is that there were always new people moving in. However, there was a distinct lack of hot guys at the moment, something Francis liked and disliked. While he got his pick of pretty girls, Francis needed something else.

Perhaps this new guy was worth pursuing.

**AN: Hi guys! Thanks for reading the first chapter! I promise to update soon.**

Beta'd by the lovely Kitty-Kat Allie!

Translations (sorry my Spanish is so bad):

"Antonio! Mi hijo! Bienvenido a América!" ="Antonio! My son! Welcome to America!"

"Padre, este es nuestre coche? Es magnifico!"= "Father, this is the new car? It's magnificent!"

"Padre! Qué TERRIBLE!"= "Father! How TERRIBLE!"


End file.
